Beginnings
by teardrop87
Summary: Paris, 1849 the origin of the mysterious Phantom and how he came to the Opera House based mostly on ALW and 2004 movie.
1. Beginnings

A/N: None of these characters belong to me. They are property of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Susan Kay. However this fanfic is mostly based on ALW's musical. Please R/R as this is my first posting.

Darkness. The peacefulness before the day began. The stillness of the night still lingered in the air. Yet in the dark, the quiet, someone stirred – a young boy. He had been awake for many hours. He did not sleep much anymore. All he ever had nowadays were nightmares.

It would be several more minutes before light would creep over the horizon. This was the time he loved best – the calm before the storm. As long as the sun remained hidden, he was free. But as soon as light touched the sky, his every whim was controlled by the man who had enslaved him.

He sat very still in his metal cage – his prison. In his hands, he held his only companion – a crudely made monkey doll. _Eventually, it'll be complete_, he thought to himself. _Persian robes, cymbals, and all._ He forced a smile – he had once seen a monkey dressed like that on his travels through eastern Europe and became determined to replicate one to keep with him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a glimmer of sunlight peering through the cracks of neighboring tents. It was then that the boy became aware of his owner and his intense snoring. He glared at the man - who laid contentedly on his cot in another part of the tent – the very man who kept him locked in chains. And for what? To be made a public spectacle!

As the sunlight spread across the camp, its rays touched the tip of the boy's violin. Aside from his monkey, it provided the only joy in his life. The boy slowly reached over and picked it up with shaking fingers. He swallowed hard and then steadied his hands, fingers, and mind as he raised the violin to his uncovered chin. He started out simply, slowly, and softly. The notes rolled off his bow, onto the strings, then the sweet melody floated up into his ears. He closed his eyes, letting the music fill him – body and soul. He was so captivated with his music that he never noticed his owner rise and enter the cage.

With a quick swoop, his master snatched up the violin, stopping the boy in mid-song. The boy instantly jumped up and whirled around to face his master, unaware that his face was still uncovered.

"Give it back!" The boy shouted.

His master only laughed at him as he held up the violin. "What? This thing? Why?"

"It's mine!"

"Oh, so you think that because you found this in some trash heap, that it's yours?"

"Yes," the boy replied, his anger rising.

"Well, let me tell you something – that ain't the way the world works. And I'll be taking this… again," he said, moving towards the cage door. He stopped and turned back around. "Let me remind you that people do not pay to listen to you play pretty songs on this… this thing!"

"It's a violin," the boy replied, coldly.

His owner ignored him, "Do you know why people pay me? Do you know why they pay to come here?" The boy looked away, disgusted. "No?" He pointed to a burlap bag that lay at the boy's feet. "They pay to see what's under that bag you wear. The face that you are flaunting now – that is the real moneymaker. So then, you won't be needing this," he said, swinging the violin by the strings.

"Give it back!" the boy demanded again.

"Don't you raise your voice to me!"

The boy seemed not to hear him, "It's mine! Give it back to me!"

"If you don't shut your mouth, you'll soon wish you had!"

The boy took a deep breath. "If you don't give it back to me," he paused, then lowered his voice a little. "You'll wish you were dead."

His master pressed his lips together tightly and he looked as if he could explode at any moment. "Don't you threaten me!" His hand flew at the boy and smacked his upside the head. In a flash, he had dropped the violin to the ground and grabbed his whip. "I'll teach you to threaten me!"

He began swinging the whip wildly – hitting the boy wherever the whip fell. Harder and faster he whipped the boy until his slave was nothing more than a crumpled mass on the cage floor. The man began to breathe deeply, trying to regain his composure.

A soft voice was heard from the collapsed figure, "You always say you'll beat me to death, yet here I am – still waiting."

The man laughed. "I already told you! There's no point in killing the host of my moneymaker," he said, motioning to the boy's uncovered face. "No, I think that instead of killing you, I'll make you wish you were dead!" He dropped the whip on the ground, then grabbed the violin with his large and powerful hands as the boy slowly raised his head. As quick as lightning, the man snapped the wooden instrument in two. The boy's eyes widened as his owner carelessly tossed the pieces to the floor. The man then picked up his whip and exited the cage, locked the door behind him. The boy stared at the violin for a long time and waited for his master to leave the tent before he crept over to it. He then gently picked up the broken piece and cradled them gently in his arms. His passion, his life, his only reason for living, was forever gone.


	2. Preparations

A/N: Thanks so much to Laylah - my first commenter! Hopefully you will enjoy this chapter as it introduces another character - again not mine.

**Paris Opera House - Paris, France 1849**

A steady buzz filled the ballet dormitories of the Paris Opera House, one night in early April 1849. The young girls who were training to become dancers had worked incredibly hard during the past few weeks. After putting on a performance of great magnificence, the ballet instructor, Madame Ombre had agreed to let the girls visit a traveling gypsy fair that had come from Eastern Europe to Paris. It was so rare that Madame Ombre allowed the girls to have a night to themselves, much less letting them leave the Opera House. And the stories that the older male stagehands told of gypsies mystified and intrigued the young ballet dancers.

They bustled around the dressing rooms, making last minute preparations and stuffing a few francs in their pockets. "Hurry now," said one girl, tying up her long curls. "You all know how Madame gets when we're late."

"Speaking of late," said another as she pulled on her overcoat. "Shouldn't someone go find Adele? She's always late for everything!" A group of girls that stood nearby her nodded and groaned.

"I'll go find her," came a faint voice. All the girls turned to see Marie Lambert standing in the doorway. They all exchanged unsure glances.

The second girl who had spoken, Lisette d'Arbre, scoffed a bit, then said, "You might as well. Go on."

Marie spun on her heels and hurried down the corridor that led to the sleeping quarters. The girl's dark locks were pulled back into a simple ponytail that swayed back and forth as she ran down the abandoned dormitory hall. "Adele! Adele, _où est tu_? Where are you?"

"_Je suis ici,_ Marie," came a voice from the sleeping quarters. "I'm here." Marie poked her head in the doorway to see a tall, thin girl of about sixteen lacing up the front of her burgundy bodice. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled back and twisted into a tight bun.

"Oh Adele," pleaded Marie, as she entered the room. "Hurry, please. Madame Ombre is becoming quite flustered."

Adele let out a long sigh as she donned her faded gray cape. Then as she slipped into her flat-soled shoes, said, "I'm coming as fast as I can." She snatched up her drawstring bag of her saved francs. With one final tug on her wine-colored skirt, she glanced up at Marie, "Alright, I'm ready. Let's go."

The two friends hurried back down the hallways of the Opera House and joined the small group of their fellow dancers that stood in a circle around their petite dance instructor, Madame Cecile Ombre. Madame Ombre's bony hands tightened around her thick shawl that draped around her tiny shoulders. Her beady eyes narrowed at the sight of the two girls. "Adele Dubois and Marie Lambert, I might have known. If you had been a second later, I'd see to it that all of your visitation privileges outside of this Opera House were withheld for the rest of the year. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Madame," the girls whispered softly as they hung their heads.

Madame Ombre then returned her attention to the group. She cleared her raspy throat, then spoke, "The evening is yours. You may spend your francs however you see fit. But if every, single, one of you is not back in the dormitories at precisely eleven o'clock this evening, the entire company will have an extra hour of practice tomorrow. Is that understood?" A chorus of "Oui, Madame" was heard. Madame Ombre smiled dryly. "_Bien_, now I will take you to the fair grounds. From there, you will be on your own."

A/N: Don't forget to review!


	3. Gypsy Camp

**A/N: Thanks to all my readers from greatestjournal! I'm so very glad all of you like it. I must admit I was really nervous that NO ONE was going to read this and that those who did would HATE it. I'm just so critical of myself. This takes a while to actually get going... but it does pick up. Sorry if that bothers anyone. (Again -these characters do not belong to me - oh wait - except Mme. Ombre, Marie Lambert, and Lisette d'Arbre! Yay! I actually own something!) Enjoy!**

In the early darkness of the night, she led her students out of the Opera House and down the streets of Paris to the fair grounds. A band of gypsies had made this spot their temporary camping grounds and in return, invited the inhabitants of Paris to come and be amazed by the spectacles they offered. All for a small fee, of course. As the group approached the fair grounds, strange music and harsh laughter filled their ears. Almost immediately, the girls began to huddle closely together.

As they reached the entrance to the gypsies' camp, they saw a large, scruffy man sitting on a stool outside his tent, counting coins. His clothes were multicolored and crudely made. They were soiled with dirt, food, and drink. He wore a chain around his neck from which dangled a few gold coins. He immediately stopped what he was doing when he saw the girls approaching. "Ah, _bienvenue_," he wheezed. He gave them a wry smile as he twirled the tip of his black mustache between his fingers. "What brings you to our humble camp?" The girls said nothing as they glanced at each other. He let out a hearty laugh. "What does it matter? As long as you have the means to enter?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed the group.

Annette DeFranco was the first to step forward. "Here, monsieur," she said, coldly dropping a coin into his hand. The man looked down at her, then laughed again.

"Go on, _entrez_! That's it, my pretties, that's the way to do it," he said as one by one the girls stepped up and pressed a single franc into his large, grubby hand. As Adele and Marie stepped up to the man, he swayed a bit from having had too much to drink. Adele firmly pushed the two francs into his hand. Without another word, she and Marie slipped past him and into the camp.

The two girls stared in awe as they slowly made their way through the fairgrounds. It was quite dark now and the only light came from the occasional bonfire or torch. As they sauntered through the fair grounds, they saw a fortuneteller's tent, a group of jugglers and acrobats, a magician, and even snake charmers. All the while, the gypsies beckoned to them, trying to coax them to spend their few francs at their particular attraction. Marie held on to Adele's arm, all the time, never letting her friend out of her sight or grasp.

"Adele, _j'ai peur_! I'm so frightened! These things… they aren't human! They're spirits… monsters…!" She said, jumping at a deep cackling that came from a nearby tent. "They're witches… devils… come to lure us all to hell!"

Adele suddenly stopped in front of a tent that seemed to have drawn a fairly large crowd. A poorly made sign read: _L'enfant du Diable_ (The Devil's Child). Another large man stood in front of this tent. He had a thick, black beard and his clothes greatly resembled those of the man who had collected their entrance fee. His eyes were bloodshot and his face and hands were covered with dirt.

"Step this way, my pretties. Come and see the devil's child," he said, his voice dripping with enticement; his breath reeking of strong whiskey. "Come, come this way!" He beckoned for them to follow him.

Marie whimpered softly. "Don't worry, Marie," Adele said softly. "I'll pay for this." Before Marie could do anything, Adele handed the man the fee, then slipped in through the flap of the tent. The crowd inside was gathered around a dimly lit cage. Adele and Marie pushed their way through the crowd to get a better view of the thing inside. Then, they saw it – the Devil's Child – and for a brief moment, Adele stopped breathing.

**Like it?Review ithere or in my journal at GJ! Thank you! **


	4. Devil's Child

**A/N: Thanks again to all my fans at GJ and to BohemianCane04! I'm so glad you all are enjoying my work. **

**I don't think I have to go over the whole "I own nothing" speech again - but since I'm introducing a new character... I do not own Javert - he belongs solely to Susan Kay. I just took the name and gave him a few of my own characteristics. Also, this is based strongly on the 2004 movie - just a reminder. :)**

**Oh I now fixed the review option and now everyone can review (just remember to sign your name/GJ username so I know who you are). Enjoy!**

**3/31 Edit: I rewrote some of this – added more detail and what not but the central story line was not changed.**

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The Devil's Child was nothing but a boy – no more than fourteen years old. He was skinny, scrawny, undernourished, and sickly-looking. His back was lined with stripes from being beaten and his entire body was filthy and was cut in some places. His only clothing was a pair of worn, torn trousers and a burlap sack that covered his head. He sat in the cage, preoccupied with a tiny, toy monkey that had been crudely made. The man, who had beckoned them to enter, now appeared from the shadows and made his way to the cage.

"You have come to see this devil's child, no?" He paused, then chuckled. "Well, I, Javert, will present this monster to you." He walked over to the cage, and unlocked it and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He picked up a whip that rested on the floor where it had been discarded after its last use. He then approached the boy, who seemed to remain oblivious to what was going on around him.

Javert raised his arm and whip came down on the boy with a deafening crack. Adele gasped while some in the crowd laughed. "Come on, boy!" taunted Javert. "Show 'em, what you're really made of! Show 'em what kind of monster lives in flesh!"

The boy ignored him and returned to his monkey. This angered Javert and he tore the monkey from the boy's hand and threw it into a corner of the cage. "You stubborn, son of a bitch! You will do what I say or you will suffer!" He began beating the boy harder and harder until the boy collapsed to the floor.

Then Javert, reached down and yanked off the burlap bag. The boy immediately tried to cover his face, but it was too late. Javert grabbed the boy's hands and pulled them away from his face. "May I present: the devil's child!" He began to laugh heartily as he spun the boy around so everyone could get a good look at him.

Some of the crowd began to laugh and point while others turned away in disgust. Then Adele caught sight of him. She couldn't help but to gasp. The left side of his face was deeply disfigured. He was missing his eyebrow, one side of his nose was sunken in, and the skin around his eye and cheek was terribly mangled. In several places, the skin had cracked and formed deep crevices. One crevice near his temple was so deep and stretched so thin that the bone and blood vessels underneath were visible to the naked eye. His top lip was also stretched and curled upwards. The left side of his head was almost completely bald save for a patch or two of hair. But what hit Adele harder was the look of sheer sadness and pain that she saw in his eyes. She had never seen such pain in one person.

Javert finally dropped the boy to the floor and the boy quickly crawled to his sack and slipped it over his head before collapsing to the floor. Javert laughed menacingly as he exited the cage, locking the door behind him.

The crowd slowly began to leave the tent, still shuddering or laughing. But Adele remained, her hands gripping the bars of his cage. She then heard a faint noise coming from the boy. He was crying… no… singing. He was singing. His voice was so pure and delicate as he sang softly. He slowly crawled over to where his monkey laid and gently picked it up, all the while, singing to himself. His attention was suddenly drawn to where Adele stood, staring at him. He stopped singing and stared back at her through the small eyeholes that were cut in the bag.

"No," she said, softly. "Don't stop. _N'arrete pas_." But before he could continue, Javert reentered, drunk as ever.

"What are you still doing here?" He motioned to Marie who had stayed frozen behind Adele. "Both of you get out! Get out I say! I got another show to do!"

Adele and Marie quickly scampered away but not before Adele could glance back at the boy once more.


	5. A Decision

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I updated - you would not believe the work load I've had the past few weeks. I'm also sorry this chapter is not as long as I would like- but my family's here for Easter, so I need to "entertain" them. :) Thanks again to all my reviewers! I'm always open to new ideas or twists for the story - just so you know. ;) Again - only Mme. Ombre, Marie, and Lisette are my original characters.**

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"Adele! You can't be serious!" The two girls now sat huddled together outside one of the larger tents where drinks were being sold.

Adele pulled her cape closer around her. "I am serious, Marie. I'm going back to see the Devil's child." She seemed to drift off, "I mean, didn't you hear his singing?"

"I heard it, but what do you think you'll accomplish by going back?"

"I don't know, but I'll do something."

"Adele," Marie pleaded softly. "It's getting late and if we're not back in the dormitories…"

"I know!" Adele shouted, her green eyes flashing. "Do you honestly think I'm that dense?" Marie whimpered quietly, but not from her fear. "What's wrong with you?" Adele asked, her tone slightly softening.

"It's just that… well… you've never spoken so harshly to me before," she said, her voice wavering.

Adele lowered her eyes and took a deep breath, "I… I'm sorry, Marie. Truly, I didn't mean to… to snap at you. It's just… how can I sit idly by? You were there, Marie. You saw him, didn't you? Did you not see his pain, his suffering? It's inhumane the way they treat him."

"Just because it's inhumane, doesn't mean that it will be stopped. Please, Adele, be reasonable."

"I am. Marie, you will go back to the Opera House and wait for me there. Tell Madame Ombré not to worry. I'll come in through the back."

"Adele, let me go with you!"

"No, Marie, it's too risky with just one! Now, I have an idea, but I must go now!"

"Adele!"

"Marie, please, you must trust me. Now go."

The girls stood and after embracing each other, Marie ran back down the lit paths towards the entrance to the camp. Adele watched her go, then turned in the opposite direction and walked back through the darkness. Now that she was without Marie, the fair grounds seemed darker and more ominous. She crept through the camp, her eyes fixed on her target – the tent that displayed a wood board with the words "L'enfant du Diable."

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**Hope you all enjoyed that - despite it's length. Please remember to comment and let me know how I'm doing. **


	6. Escape!

**A/N: Since I only gave you a quick and rather unappeasing chapter - I decided to add this one too. It's a little bit longer - but not much. Think of it as my way of apologizing fornot writing more before now. :) Again, comments are ALWAYS welcomed and appreciated. (And the whole I own practically nothing... blah...blah...blah...)**

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As Adele silently approached the tent, she heard Javert singing as he cleaned up from the evening crowd. But compared to the singing of his captive, his song was no more than a drunken chant and he made Adele want to cover her ears. She peered into the tent, though the thin opening that served as the entrance. The boy still sat in his prison cell, holding his monkey and just like before, he was singing softly.

Javert suddenly reentered from a side room that he had constructed inside the tent. He glared at the boy, "Stop yer singing! No one pays to hear you sing!"

The covered head looked up at him through the bars. "Well, if you hadn't broken my violin…" he said, firmly.

Javert pressed his face close to the cage, "Well if you hadn't such a temper, I'd not have to go and break it!"

"You could have killed me instead!" The boy screamed.

"Aye, that I could have. But it's like I told you earlier. People don't come to hear you sing or play that…" His face twisted into a scowl as he fought to recall the name of the object he had destroyed. "That… thing! They don't even pay to watch you play with that stupid monkey. They pay to see that face of yours. Which is why there is no profit for me to kill you." He paused. "All you'll ever be is a spectacle," Javert continued. "An attraction for people to goggle at; to mock. No one will ever know you by name except the one that I gave you – Devil's child. Here you came and here you'll stay." Javert returned to picking up odds and ends left from the crowd, off the ground around the cage. "Must be hard to know that even your own mother couldn't stand to look at your face."

Adele sniffled a bit from the cold, drawing the attention of the boy. She ducked behind the tent flap, but heard Javert's voice. "What is it? Who's there? Who…." From the spot where she hid, she heard a gagging, choking noise. She peered back into the tent to see Javert leaning against the cage with the boy directly behind him. In the boy's hands was a rope that he had thrown around his owner's neck while the man was distracted. As Adele watched from the entrance, the boy mustered together all his strength to pull on both ends of the rope, cutting off Javert's oxygen. The gypsy master gasped and attempted to fight back – but it was no good. Finally Javert stopped struggling, breathed his last, then his body fell to the ground. From inside the cage, the boy gave his end of the rope a final tug to be sure that his former master was indeed dead, then bent down to grabbed Javert's keys that rested on the ground, only to find that they were too far for him to reach.

Adele now cautiously entered the tent, keeping her eyes fixed on this young killer. The boy caught sight of her and in desperation, he called out, "_Mamzelle! Mamzelle, m'aide, s'il vous plait_. Please, free me! Quick, before someone comes!" Adele hurried over and grabbed the keys and handed them to the boy. He jammed the correct one into the lock and with a sharp turn, the cage door was open. The boy, still clutching his monkey, ran over to the tent flap and peered out into the darkness. "Someone's coming! Quick, follow me, out the back!" He led Adele through another tent flap and out into the darkness of the night.

Adele then heard voices behind them as he led her onward. "Javert! Someone's killed Javert!"

"It must have been the Devil's child!"

"He's gone! He's escaped!"

"Alert everyone before it's too late!"

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**A bit of a cliffhanger - but hopefully it will keep you reading... :) Don't forget to review! Thank you!**


	7. Through the darkness

**A/N: Thanks so much to all my reviewers! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this (I know I am). **

**I don't know if any of you know French so I'll try to give you the translation for some of the more common ones I use: _Garcon_ - boy; _mamzelle_ - slang for young woman; _allez -_ go; _s'il vous plait_ - please; _merci_ – thank you; _de rien_ - of nothing/you're welcome. Any other time I've used French I've included the translation - often the sentence after it. Example: _Ne t'inquiétes pas_.** **Don't worry... If there is anything you want translated - let me know... I tend to write more in French than I intended to. **

**I own nothing as you all know... Anyway... enjoy this next chapter. Hopefully between now and Saturday, I'll have chapter 8 up too. :)**

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Adele followed the boy as he ran farther away from the camp into the darkness. He led her blindly down black alleyways and narrow back streets. As they neared the city, he always managed to keep in the shadows, avoiding any light. His steady energy and stamina astounded Adele as she struggled to keep up with him.

Finally, Adele could take no more. She slowed her pace and called out to her mysterious leader. "_Garçon_! _Garçon_, please stop!" The boy immediately halted in front of her. Adele approached him cautiously, still a bit shaken by what he had just done. "_Garçon_?" He turned his covered head toward her direction. Adele took a deep breath. "_Garçon_, where are we going?"

For a long time, he did not answer her. Adele bit her lip nervously as she could not even see his facial response to her question. Then she heard his faint voice from under his bag, "I do not know, _mamzelle_. Away. Away from them."

Adele and the boy stood silently in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. Neither was sure what they should do next. A cold wind whistled down the street, and sent shivers down Adele's spine. For a brief second, she wished she had listened to Marie and returned to the warm Opera House. Then she had an idea. "_Garçon_, I live in the Opera House," she said slowly. "It's not very far from here. It's quite large and often empty, well except for performance nights. Why don't you come spend the night there? It'll be warmer than this street and the…." She paused, not wanting to upset him. "The gypsies will never think to look for you there."

He remained silent and Adele thought that maybe he did not understand her. But before she could say anything, he spoke, "Would anyone be able to find me there?"

"Not for a while and not unless you want to be found," she said, thinking of the many rooms and hallways that made up the theater. Not to mention the intricacies of the stage and the levels above it. "Just for the night, _s'il vous plaît_."

He stared in her direction for just a moment longer, then slowly nodded. "Show me."

Now it was Adele's turn to lead. She tried her best to stay in the shadows like the boy had done, in hopes of somehow pleasing him. It seems like hours later when she finally caught sight of the Opera House. She stopped and pointed out the magnificent structure to him. "There… that is the Paris Opera House." He made no movement and showed no emotion of any kind. Adele hoped he would not think she would take him across the lit-courtyard to the front entrance. "_Ne t'inquiétes pas_. Don't worry,we shall go in the back entrance," she said with a forced smile.

She cautiously skirted around the buildings that stood near the Opera House, always staying in the shadows as much as she could. The two soon reached the alleyway that ran alongside the theater. Adele traveled down the alley, estimating where the lobby, stairway, and auditorium would be. Finally as they neared the rear of the theater, she approached a decorative grate that was built into the wall of the theater at eye level. She gently reached up and fiddled with the lock for a few seconds. Suddenly, a faint click was heard and a grin spread over Adele's face. This grate had often provided Adele with an emergency entrance and exit into the theater that no one else knew about.

She motioned to the boy to enter. He only stared for a moment, then approached the opening and hoisted himself up onto its ledge. "_Allez_," Adele whispered. "Go on." With that, he disappeared into the opening. Adele then glanced up and down the alley to make sure that no one had followed them before hoisting herself up.

She slowly moved inside, pulling the grate closed behind her. She quietly relocked it, sealing the way from which they came. Adele then turned to see the boy surveying his new surroundings. Pale moonlight poured through the grate and dimly lit the room. "This is our _chapelle_," Adele explained. "It's a sanctuary for those who wish to pray or be in thought." A metal candle stand rested next to the window grate. A few of the candleholders had pictures or names under them. The boy seemed to study it. "That is where we put the pictures or names of our loved ones who have passed away. Then you can light their candle every time you come to pray for them." The boy said something under his breath, then turned away from it.

However, Adele continued to talk to him, "Feel free to wander as you see fit. I will do whatever I can to help you…" The boy began peering out the open doorway. Adele hurried over to him. "Wait, _garçon_! Before you go, I must ask you to meet me here early tomorrow morning, before the sun rises. Please."

He slowly approached her until they would have been eye-to-eye. He then nodded and softly said, "_Merci, mamzelle_."

Adele swallowed hard, still uneasy about not being able to see the face of the boy who spoke to her. "_De rien_," she replied, turning towards the door. "Please come here tomorrow."

The boy stared at her, then nodded as he quickly slipped out the doorway and vanished into the darkness. Adele paused a moment before she too left the _chapelle _and journeyed down the corridor. Yet her destination was a bit different.

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**Don't forget to review:)**


	8. A saved life

**A/N: A BIG merci to all of my readers! I'm glad I've kept most of you this far… cause we've still got a ways to go…. :) On Wednesday, I was privileged to get the chance to see "The Phantom of the Opera" with Hugh Panaro and Sandra Joseph in New York. That experience has truly inspired me to work on this fanfic and it has really come a long ways. I did like the last chapter. However I was not sure where I was going with this one – yet I think it turned out pretty good.**

**A quick note: there is one use of profanity in this chapter – if this offends anyone, I will be glad to e-mail them a copy of the chapter "profanity-free". Another note: I recently EDITED Chapter 4 and if you want a better "visual" I'd suggest you go back and re-read it. :)**

**Again – I own nothing but it would be wonderful if I did…. Enjoy!**

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Adele crept down the hallway, careful not to disturb any of the props and costumes that lay strew on the floor. She tiptoed past Madame Ombré's chamber and breathed a sigh of relief to hear the ballet instructor's heavy snoring. She turned the corner to enter the ballet dormitories and had to come to an abrupt stop. One of the stagehands was sitting, hunched over in the middle of the hallway, an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Adele shook her head softly. _Jacques was always being reprimanded by Madame Ombré for his excessive drinking around the ballet girls_. 

_Now came the real challenge_, she thought to her self as she inched closer to Jacques' slumped figure. Ever so slowly, she stepped over his outstretched legs. Just as she was about to breathe another sigh of relief, she heard him begin to mumble. She quickly glanced back only to see him squirm a bit before letting out a ear-piercing snore. Adele winced, but continued on her way.

She opened the first door on her left and quietly slipped inside. The sound of heavy breathing and the occasional snore drifted through the room. Adele smiled to herself. She did it. She had made it back…. Suddenly, Adele saw a lit candle appear out of nowhere. The candle gave just enough light to give her a clear view of the person who held it. Lisette d'Arbre.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Mademoiselle Adele Dubois. So nice of you to join us," sneered Lisette.

"I don't have time for this," Adele said, trying to pass her.

"Do you have the slightest idea what time it is?" Lisette asked, her voice raising.

"Well, let's see, we had dinner at six-thirty, and at seven we went to the fair… I'm guessing it's some time after seven."

Lisette sneered then raised her hand and struck Adele across the face. "Don't you talk like that to me! We may be the same age but I am a far better dancer than you will ever be!"

Adele's face tingled with pain yet she dare not touch the spot in Lisette's presence. "And that makes you superior?"

"In a place where ballet is a part of life, yes, I think it does," replied Lisette bitterly. "Now, for your information it is almost midnight! Every one of us was in this Opera House at ten o'clock precisely. Dare I ask where you were?"

"It's none of your business!"

Lisette chuckled then turned to the group of ballet dancers who watched anxiously from their beds. "She was probably out making money on some street corner; selling herself any tramp who happened to come along." A few of the girls giggled, yet all noise came to a halt by a loud slap that echoed off the walls of the room. Lisette's eyes went wide as she realized what had just happened. She clutched at her cheek with her free hand. "You bitch!" she screamed, as she gingerly touched her face.

"That's what you get for telling lies," Adele said firmly.

"Well maybe you'd like to know that we all have an extra hour of practice tomorrow morning. All thanks to… you." Lisette returned to her bunk and blew out the candle, allowing darkness to once again fill the room.

Adele made her way along the row of beds to her own bunk. She pulled off her dress and unlaced her corset, throwing them both on top of her wooden trunk. As she began to climb the ladder up to her bed, she felt someone tug on her chemise.

Adele glanced down at the figure that had pulled on her nightdress. It was Marie, lying in her own bed, the bunk below Adele's. "Adele," she whispered. "Come talk to me."

"I can't Marie," Adele whispered back. "I've already got the entire ballet company upset with me over the extra hour of practice. I don't want to keep them up with my talking."

Marie's grip did not loosen. "Please, Adele. Tell me what happened."

Adele paused for a moment, then descended the ladder. She knelt by Marie's bed and leaned in close so that no one could hear what they were saying. "What do you wish to know?" Adele asked in a voice lower than a whisper.

"Did you succeed?" Adele slowly nodded. Marie's eyes went wide. "How?"

"I can't say now. All I will say is that he is free and for the time being, under my care."

"Adele…" Marie sighed. "I thought you were only going to free him."

"But I have," Adele said, her eyes sparkling. "He is free and now he can start a new life."

Marie let out a soft groan, then asked, "Where is he now?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Adele!"

"No, Marie. It's too risky. I'll handle this on my own. _Bon nuit_. Good night."

With that, Adele hurried up the short ladder before Marie could stop her again. Adele let out another sigh of relief as she snuggled into her bed. She had done it. The "Devil's child" was free and never again would he be on display like that. She laid on her back and thought of the mysterious _garçon_ who now was creeping through the many halls and floors of the Opera House. Adele finally raised her hand to her cheek to feel the spot where Lisette had smacked her. It was still tender and her hand still hurt from slapping Lisette but it had been worth it. It was all worth it – even the early morning practice. For that night, a life was saved.

* * *

**You know the drill... :)**


	9. Elle m’a appelé Erik

**A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this writing spree. This chapter is not as long but I just wanted to stop it. **

**The beginning of this chapter is a little confusing but hopefully it'll make sense as you read. I like this chapter and hopefully you will too. :) Enjoy!**

_Darkness. The only place he ever found peace and solitude. Now it was his – all his. He tightened his grip on the limp monkey doll in his hand as a cold wind surrounded him. The wind whipped around his face and pulled at the bag that covered his head. With his free hand, he pulled the bag down harder. Out of nowhere several torches lit up revealing the boy's location - Javert's tent. The boy panicked and ran toward the open tent flap. Before he could escape, a metal cage appeared around him, imprisoning him once again. He beat violently on the bars. How would he ever escape? Suddenly, his master, Javert entered the tent with his whip. "You didn't think you were going to get away so easily did you?" He snapped his fingers and immediately a crowd of onlookers appeared around the cage. They were all laughing and pointing at the boy. The boy reached up once more only to find his bag was gone! He sank to the ground and curled up in a ball as the sound of laughter filled his ears._

_The laughter was then drowned out by the sweet sound of his old violin. He glanced up to a see a beautiful woman surrounded by a dim, white light. In her hands was his repaired violin. He slowly outstretched his arm toward her. "M'aidez. Help me, please." She was close, so close; if he just stretched a little more…._

_He was suddenly yanked back by his hair. He winced in pain, then looked up to see his master hovering over him. Javert grinned evilly at the boy. "You will never be free!" he sneered. He then dropped the boy, but instead of landing on the hay-covered ground, the boy kept falling. Down, down, down into the gypsy's fire…._

The boy jumped up, rapidly breathing. Sweat droplets trickled down his face. He glanced around at his surroundings. This was not his cage or even Javert's tent. "_Qu'est-ce que c'est_?" He whispered to himself. "What is this place? Where am I?" He slowed his breathing as he pulled his only possession closer to his chest. He began to look around, despite his limited vision. _It must be very early_, he thought to himself, noting that the only light in the room was still cold and grey. He remained motionless as he sat on the damp, stone floor. If only he could remember how he got here….

"_Garçon_?" A sweet voice floated into the room. A young woman's voice. Immediately the previous night's events filled his memory - freedom from his life as a slave. A tear fell from his eye, as now he wished he could go back to not remembering. Not knowing was far better than knowing the truth.

As the door to the room opened, letting more light fill the room, the boy's hands immediately shot up to cover his face. "_Garçon_," came the voice again as a petite ballerina crept down the three stone steps then crossed the room to where the boy sat, curled up in a corner. Her blonde hair was pulled back tightly. She was wearing her recital outfit. The pale green bodice grasped at her gently while her long tutu ruffled softly when she walked.

"_Garçon_," she said a third time. "Why are you hiding?"

He did not answer, but lowered his hands from his covered head.

"Are you hurt? Or frightened?" The boy slowly shook his head. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly as she slowly approached him then sat on the ground in front of him. "Have you a name, _garçon_?"

He glanced away from her. "They called me the Devil's child," he responded bitterly.

Adele bit her lip then asked, "Well, what did you mother call you?"

The boy seemed to ponder this for a while. "She didn't speak to me much." Before Adele could ask another question, he added, "She once called me Erik. _Elle m'a appelé_ Erik."

Adele smiled, "Pleased to meet you, Erik. My name is Adele Dubois. Welcome to the Paris Opera House."

**EDIT 4/16/06 A/N: I am saddened to say that I have had neither time nor inspiration concerning the continuation of this fanfiction. I have a folder full of various future scenes, plot lines, and ideas – yet when I have had time to sit down and write, very little to nothing actually ends up on the screen. :( Instead of forcing chapters to come about, I would rather leave the story where it is currently. **

**Therefore, I regret to inform you readers that THIS chapter is (for now) the last. Perhaps one day my muse will return and I will pick up right where I left off, but as of right now, I do not see that happening. I am sorry if I have disappointed anyone. And you are more than welcome to take what I have started and play with some variations on what would happen next. I just didn't want to leave this hanging forever and I wanted to let everyone know that unless some free time (and inspiration) comes up (maybe this summer), I will not be updating this story. Thank you for understanding.**


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